A New Start
by Ambrosia Ice
Summary: Harry, Hermione, and Pansy where all hit with a mixture of potions. Deaging the three adula back into five, six, and seven years old. Now, as children, they have little to no memory of their part in history. All three where adopted by three different couples, brought up in a different way. When they reach Hogwarts, will they be friends or enemies?
1. Intro

**Prologue**

_2002_

It started out as a normal day. The sun shined brightly, the sky was clear, and for the first time in years the air seemed clear of all darkness that had plagued the Wizards World for the past three decades. It was a day for celebration.

Or, at least it _should_ have been. He'd just been informed that Ginny was expecting. The twenty-two year old felt undeniable joy. He was going to be a father _within the year_! How could anyone expect him to _not_ be over joyed?

He grinned as he met up with his long time friend, Hermione Weasley. It seemed like just yesterday she'd been Hermione _Granger_, just being introduced to another part of the world she already lived. Now, one was a parent-to-be and they'd known each other for little over a decade. He forced himself to not flinch as images of the war flash through his mind.

"Something bothering you, Har?" She asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

It was a scary thought; to think they'd been through so much in their, compared to many wizards, short life. In the age of Wizards they were still _young_. Wizards lived well into the two-hundreds, it didn't matter if they were half-blood or Pureblood. Unforchidently, the Muggleborns didn't live as long, their raw magical powers was like a slow-ticking time bomb. Most didn't, anyways. Few, like Hermione or Lily, learned how tame said power and if an outside force didn't kill them, they'd live as long as the others with generations of _developed_, tamed, magic.

He shrugged before replying, in a nonchalant tone. "Just flash backs of the war, 'Mione." He said lightly, even though him mood had done a one-eighty and he was feeling more depressed, and scared, than anything else.

Rubbing his temples, he only half listened to her response. "Harry.. You're going to be a _father_. You need to get help; a Mind Healer would greatly benefit you. The Post Tramatic-"

He cut her off, with a tired sigh. "I'm not traumatized." He said defiantly.

She scoffed. "You may be strong, Harry James Potter, but you're bloody traumatized. It doesn't matter if you won't admit it. The fact remains. You. Are. Traumatized. Simple thing, simple reminders, might very well set you off one day. What if you hurt Gi-"

"I would... I would _never_ hurt Ginny." Came his low, dark, reply. "I would _die_ before I lay a finger on her. Or our child once they're born."

"I know that, Harry. I know you would never _intentionally _harm her. B-"

"Change the subject, Hermione." He growled through clenched teeth.

She looked at him and sighed. "Fine. But be warned: we will continue this conversation someday in the near future." Her dark expression gave him no other choice besides to agree with him.

They walked to the Ministry with a tense atmosphere between them. Ron was at home, fussing over his younger sister. The ministry respected the trio and they could usually take days off, even when it was _last minute._ Which it usually was, with the two men. Hermione was a little more organized and _usually_ gave a weeks notice.

Their raid group consisted of the three of them; Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Pansy was their fourth member; surprising everyone when she'd chosen the path she had. Especially considering what side she'd been on.

What was even more surprising, at least to the media, was that the trio welcomed her into their fold without any _public_ resiting.

Ron had made it clear, when it was just the four of them, that he wanted nothing to do with the girl. _Nothing_. And the first five months had put a lot of strain on the group. The only reason Ron accepted the former Slytherin _now_ was because of a firm lecture and not being talked to for weeks on end by his wife.

Harry had snickered at their actions. It had been a couple months after the war and not being talked it probably reminded him of the time during the war, when he'd left the hunt in frustration. It must have been torturous for him to have the love of his life _right there_ and not be able to touch, or kiss, or even _talk_ to without being hexed.

So yes, the trio was now a quartet. They were all friends. For the most part. Ron, and even Harry, was wary of the girl but didn't say so aloud. He had a feeling Hermione had her own doubt's but didn't voice, or even entertain, them.

The three chatted quietly among themselves before entering their department heads office. Shortly thereafter, they got their training assignment. They'd been told, since they were the youngest Aurors, and best, in the last century, they'd be overseeing the next three years of the incoming interns training.

However, that day, there was a flaw. The three found themselves in a rather strange predicament; they found themselves having to look _up_ instead of _down_ when someone who had been shorter than the three of them came over.

This caused the three of them to scowl as their thoughts turned sluggish. Forcing himself to focus, he realized that there was smoke in surrounding area, close to where they stood. This caused him to feel confused as he lost his focus and could only think of simple things. Chasing a butterfly he'd seen earlier, for example. Or the rainbow that was always in the sky, even on gloomy days when everything seemed dull.

Soon, however, he couldn't even focus on _those_ things. He felt his eyes flutter shut. Someone was carrying him. And then? Nothing. He lost all sense of feeling and instead trapped in a nightmare _hell_ that he wouldPi qOhn't have been able to create himself, even if he'd watched all the horrifying movies he'd heard about from...

From who, exactly? Who had he been thinking about? What had he been thinking?

* * *

**A/N: Hello, lovelies! Here I is again, with another story. Dammit. I need to spot them plot bunnies from running around when I should be sleeping!**

**For those who have been following me for some time, you've probably noticed by now that I am no longer **_**Aleeta6**_**. Sorry about the sudden change!**

**Also, this was **_not_ **my idea. I just decided to do it. The whole idea is from **_Flairwarth_ **and i'm just letting my imagination run away. **

**I **_**still**_ **don't own the world, so, by default, I still done own Harry Potter! Do you know how tedious it is, trying to figure out how to take over the world? **


	2. Chapter I

**Chapter One**

Pansy blinked slowly, trying to figure out what had just happened to her. She felt strange. Very strange. After the first potion hit, she had found that she couldn't focus on anything. The second and third had caused excruciating physical pain. After that, she'd been unable to count. But she had noted that her memories, good and bad, were starting to fade.

Her face flushed with panic as she desperately tried to grab onto them. Even if they weren't the greatest ones, they were _hers_ and they helped her _grow_, at least during the war. She'd known that the Dark Lord's view was wacky, and wrong, but her family had been on the _dark side_ for centuries before she was born. It only made sense that she'd join with the rest of her family.

She'd soon seen the error of her way when Draco had been tasked with killing Dumbledore. She knew he didn't want to do it. But they'd been _kids_, frightened and raised _for_ Voldemort. Everyone had a first instinct of self protection; that raw, undeniable, want to _survive_. That's how it had been. She didn't want to believe that over half their classmates- RavenClaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor alike- actually _wanted_ to kill people. To make them suffer. That they really, truly, believed in what Voldemort was preaching.

That's part of the reason she'd decided to become an Auror; so she could help fight Dark Lords (and Ladies) before they caused so much damage that another war broke out. So they couldn't hurt as many people.

While she did wish, at one point, that she hadn't made the choices that she did, she also realized that she probably wouldn't be the person she was. To her, losing her experiences... It was one of her worst fears. Losing herself _frightened_ her. Quite a bit, to be honest.

However, despite her obvious struggle, she found herself slipping away, into a blissful unconsciousness. It felt like her memories, the one thing that defined her, were slipping right through her fingers.

She closed her eyes before she felt her body being picked up. Her eyes snapped open, even though everything was blurry, she saw a dark haired male carrying Harry away. The boy looked about five years old, and less aware of his surrounding than her. Her heart clenched. Something was wrong. Really wrong, if a Auror- deaged or not- wasn't aware of what was happening around them.

She glanced around for Hermione, but couldn't find her friend. Not at first, anyways. When she finally did, she was curious as to who, or what, was holding her team-mate rather tightly. The woman holding her had pointed ears and was rather slim. She had white hair and an interesting choice of clothing. If Pansy had to guess, she'd say it was all natural. Something anyone could find in the wild. She paled as the woman forced Hermione- who looked six- to drink a potion that she'd never seen before. Before she could see the effects, however, the woman (and Hermione) was gone in a blinding white flash.

By that time, Pansy couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, and fell into a terrified sleep. Nightmares plagued her. Not anything that she'd gotten from missions. No, these were nightmares that a child's mind could come up with. It centered around her not being able to find her Mummy and Daddy. The ministry was a large place. She'd gone their throughout her childhood. Each time she'd gone, she'd had a nightmare the night prior of her Mom forgetting she was in the bathroom, or getting a drink.

* * *

The next time she woke, she was in a hospital bed. The world seemed more clear to her, though everything she looked at was hard to distinguish between. She remembered taking a healing course, or two, so she realized she _should_ know what most of the strange things in the room where. However, that mystery was short lived because she could hear voices, and they seemed to be talking about her.

_"There is no known aging potion."_

_"Are you sure? Three renounced Aurors were turned into children today. Eight unspeakables, as well. Even some of our children were hit and now they're about the age of _newborns_." _

_"I'm terribly sorry, Minister. The best we can do for Former Auror Parkinson is set it in a stable home and hope she doesn't remember the horrors she seen. During assignment and during her schooling."_

There was nothing else said about the topic, at least not loud enough for her to hear. _"You want to __**what**__?" _Came an angry reply of the Ministers. _"Even if you __**weren't**_ _a former known death eater, you're far to you to take on-"_

_"Minister." _Came a sigh from someone she thought she knew. Tilting her head, she decided to continue to listen and _then_ ask questions.

_"I know we're young. But that's probably the _best _thing for Pansy. Being raised by someone who went to school with her... Maybe we can find a way to get her back to the age she _should _be, but right now she needs someone who _knows _her; not someone new who doesn't know the _first _thing about her."_

The minister grumbled something she didn't catch. The conversation dragged on for what seemed like hours before four figures- three males and one female- entered into the hospital room, slightly surprised to see her wake. Her eyes trailed from each one, trying to place where she knew them from. She visibly flinched when she she felt pain as she tried to do so. She pulled the covers tighter and just wanted to melt into the bed.

"Mrs. and Mr. Malfoy are going to be taking care of you, Miss Parkinson." The one she assumed to be the Healer said.

Her eyes snapped back to the blonde. "Draco..." She mumbled incoherently. Her eyes moved over to the woman. "And Astoria..." She refused to admit that even to herself she sounded tired.

"Let's get you checked out." She said lightly. "Then you can sleep in mine and Draco's room. We'll get you your own room tomorrow." And with that, the new adopting mother signed papers.

Draco carried the sleeping girl, who seemed to be in pain as she kept waking up. They apparated to Malfoy Manor and Pansy jerked awake during the split second teleportation and looked at him with wide, tear filled eyes.

* * *

**A.N: heh. I hope that wasn't horribley confusing. I like grown up pansy, though it would apper she was a bitch in the books. Hmmm... I wonder what she was doing in the _17 years later_ or whatever... **


	3. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

When Pansy woke the next morning, she found that she was in a lavish bed and felt more refreshed than she had in years. She blinked up at the ceiling, dreading what the day would consist of. While she'd rather enjoyed shopping as a young teen, she hadn't had time in recent years to shop for anything. Save for, of course, maybe new clothing here and there. But she'd been so busy; with missions, trying to earn back the trust of people, making amends with Hermione for all the bullying she did... It was just all too much for her to handle. And yet, somewhere in her busy life, she'd found peace. Somehow she'd found time to find someone she loved. Her plate was full, yes, but everything balanced out... eventually.

She scrambled out from underneath the blankets and looked at herself in the mirror that was a little to high for her liking. She had to climb onto the dresser itself just to more than the tip of her head.

She scowled at her young figure. It was unnatural, a twenty two year old, looking as if they were about eight years old. She supposed it made sense, however. She didn't have many memories, even though she _knew _that just yesterday she'd known herself better than people have given her credit for.

She bit back a soft sob as she remembered her ever growing stomach that had been charmed over so people wouldn't know she was pregnant. What happened to _that_ child? The one who hadn't even been born?

Pansy knew she wouldn't ever have a peaceful night's rest until she found out what had happened to her baby, but she also knew that whatever _had_ happened wouldn't be reversible. It caused her unexplainable pain; emotionally and physically. The bump that had been growing had grown on her, and without it there everything felt _off_. In the course of a little under twenty-four hours her world had been turned upside down more times than she cared to count.

As the now seven-year-old rubbed her now tired face, she climbed off the dresser. She didn't want to feel anymore dread. Was there a potion that would take away her feelings? To be more specific, was there one that would take away _all her memories_?

If this taboo predicament was going to become her new life... Well, she didn't want to remember anymore of her former life than she already did. What was a few more memories, since she had so little to start with?

_A child. Again._ She thought bitterly. _Everyone's secret dream. Don't they realize that being young again isn't, and never will be, a blessing? _

Another part of her stubbornly replied, _Perhaps this is has a blessing, somewhere. It may just be hidden in all the angst you're feeling. Being a kid again... You have a second chance. You could be _happy _this time._

_I was happy the first time I was a child! I had a _great _childhood!_ She huffed and crossed her arms. _Besides, going through puberty will be the same, I bet!_

The other part of her laughed. _A great childhood? You call learning how to use magic with a dark intent since the time you can remember to the time you were six-teen and then joining The Dark Lord a _great _childhood_. It paused for a slight moment. Enough for Pansy to swallow down tears. _At least you won't be blindsided when you start bleeding monthly and you start to grow breasts. _

With that the girl decided she was done arguing with herself. Blush spread across her face. She didn't know whether she should be mortified at herself or just start crying. She silently opened the door and made her way down to the dining room.

She glanced at the two people who were now her adoptive parents. They didn't look like they'd actually ever been a couple. No, all the pictures with the two of them, Draco and Astoria, looked forced. Fake happiness. Fake vows. Fake, fake, _fake_. All wrapped up in a very _real_ marriage.

Draco glanced at her before asking how she had slept. He, very bluntly, said she looked like she'd been dragged through Hell during her sleep. And he knew very well that she'd had a peaceful sleep. Tippy, one of their many House Elves, had watched her all night. He'd gotten a slap by his wife afterwards and looked strangely like a kicked puppy.

She reached for the Daily Prophet, not at surprised at the front page. Of course an attack at the Ministry would cause such an uproar.

_**Attack at the Ministry!  
**_Anonymous Author

Late yesterday afternoon the few remaining Death Eaters attacked the ministry. We can all assume their main targets were Hermione Weasley(nee Granger) and Harry Potter. However, they hit more than two dozen others. Pansy Parkinson, Jamie Holly, and David James, just to name a few. Many were turned into infants, ranging from a day old to six months. A few were turned into eleven year olds. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Pansy Parkinson where deaged to five, six, and seven year olds.

Many people are wondering where the Boy-Who-Lived and his Muggleborn friend are now. In the aftermath the two were taken. Minutes, maybe seconds, after the explosion, they were taken. Many who were coherent enough to remember what they saw said that Mrs. Weasley was taken by what looked to be an angel, or an elf. The claim was dismissed. Mr. Potter was seen to be taken by a dark cloaked person. A vampire, or something else that looked like a human but gave off the scent of something else. These claims where also dismissed. Miss Parkinson, however, is currently living with Former Death Eaters, Draco and Astoria Malfoy.

* * *

**a/n:**

**^^ that's all folks. At least for this chapter. Tell me, did the "report" sound somewhat professional? …. I was told you aren't supposed to use "I" or "myself" or anything of the sort with reportings…. **


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